Opening Moves (15 page)

“
First Battalion, first Company, listen up!” the Colonel read of a list. “When we arrive these will be your assignments. Alpha Platoon gets to enjoy the hospitality of the
Leyte
-class heavy cruiser JOHNSTON. Beta Platoon, your ride will be the GEARING. And Gamma Platoon goes to the AUSTIN, may God have mercy on her.”

Lee grinned with the rest of her platoon, and not only at the jibe the old man had taken at the company's most unruly unit. The
Leyte
-class were fairly new long endurance vessels meant to keep their crews in space for months, patrolling the borders. That meant they actually had the facilities to house an outfit like Alpha Company. It wouldn't be a five star hotel, but her gut told her she could have drawn a worse destination.

The worst assignment was corvettes or frigates, short range vessels with barely enough space to move and constant noise as the little ships' power plants tried to keep them moving. The same could be said for dreadnoughts, even though for different reasons. The big boys were meant for maximum battlefield impact, not endurance. There wasn't a cubic foot aboard a dreadnought that wasn't in some way or form meant to make it an even meaner fu... fellow. Yeah, a cruiser assignment was just fine.

Lee heard a few more names as the Colonel read out the rest of the regiment's assignments. There were a few more cruisers' names that she recognized, like the SAVANNAH and the DETROIT, older light cruisers of the
Altair
-class. Charlie Company wasn't quite as lucky, and she sympathized when she heard the names ROOSEVELT, KINNAMON and GRANT, three dreadnoughts of the
Union
-class. Still, the lack of fortune for her comrades didn't dampen her mood as and she the company were dismissed and went to the departure lounge to wait for their turn to takeoff.

Three hours later they were still waiting, which left Samantha decidedly grumpy. If they had to sit on their asses here anyways she could just as well have spent the time with her family! At least the departure hall came with the beautiful panoramic view of the towering volcano of Olympus Mons in the distance. She contented herself with just taking in that view.

Unfortunately the rest of the company was less easily placated and Lieutenant Jones, Lee's Platoon commander, had started a little quiz to keep them busy.

“
Private Lee, why don't you answer this one?”

“
Sir?” she blinked and focused on the officer. Jones was a good man and respected, but sometimes a little too enthusiastic for her taste.

“
The question was what is the range on your carbine?” the officer said kindly, and the rest of the platoon turned their eyes to watch her.

“
The M80's effective range against other armored infantry is fifteen hundred meters under standard atmospheric pressure.”

“
Very good,” Jones nodded like a pleased school teacher. “How about rate of fire and ammunition capacity?”

“
Rate of fire can be varied downwards, but the basic setting is four hundred rounds per minute. Standard clip size provides for sixteen hundred rounds, but the weapon can also use drum magazines with a four thousand round capacity, sir.”

“
You see, Sergeant Masters? Lee has all the answers!” Jones grinned at the platoon sergeant who simply nodded. The questions weren't over.

Samantha however returned to the view. The stark beauty of Mars with its red wastes and almost hidden signs of life having taken roots had captivated her almost as much as Natasha. Living out here often gave her the impression of being a sort of frontiersman, one of those few members of the human race that had chosen to carry life to the stars. The idea that somehow she was part of that select group who had pushed the boundaries, like the pioneers of the old west or the first space explorers, made her respect them even more, for the means they had had at their disposal had been primitive compared to hers.

There was a storm coming outside. It was still hundreds of kilometers away, but the flanks of the distant dormant volcano already saw the clouds of dust and rust-colored sand rise, the weather surging them into a front many kilometers high. A Martian storm made hurricanes on Earth feel positively puny. It was the stark contrast between the planet's usually so thin atmosphere and the sudden impression of its air having a true weight to itself that drove home the point of this being a whole different world. Sammy wouldn't have minded to stay here, on Mars, for the rest of her days. It was a good place to raise children, safer and less crowded than the megaplexes that dominated Earth itself.

She was pulled from her thoughts when the heavy figure of Captain Peter Madison, the company's commander, stalked powerfully towards the Alpha Platoon.

“Lieutenant Jones, report to bay ten! We're moving out.”

“
Yes Captain,” Jones stopped his version of 'Who wants to be a Millionaire?' and saluted. “All right guys, you've heard the man. Get your gear and lets move. Quickly now, lets lead the way.”

“
'Lead the way',” Private 'Grunt' Kayser grinned. “Lead the way to the departure terminal! Booyah!”

“
Did you say something there, private?” Jones raised an eyebrow.

“
No sir, just clearing my throat sir,” Grunt replied quickly.

“
Glad to hear that. If that throat thing keeps bugging you I just might have to assign you extra PT to try and get your body back in shape,” the platoon's commander smiled wickedly.

“
Feeling much better already, sir. Thank you, sir.” He darted forward with his pack under the amused eyes of the platoon.

“
Follow Grunt then.” Jones nodded, and as one they headed for the launch bay.

The launch was a spectacular experience. Lee had managed to get a seat next to Jones almost at the front of the dropship, and the pilots weren't in a sealed enclosure allowing her an almost unobstructed view through the cockpit. She watched in pure wonder as the orange sky first paled and then darkened into the black of space as the craft effortlessly broke out of the red planet's gravity and eased into orbit. Far ahead of them she could see the blinking lights of another dropship, probably the HQ platoon and Captain Madison following the same vector as Lee's own ride, and he expected the rest of the Company was following on behind him.

“That's our destination,” Jones noticed Samatha's look and pointed out helpfully. “The U.V.S. SANTIAGO. She'll ferry us to Orion.”

Lee and a few other guys leaned forward and glimpsed the massive gray troop ship. She was immediately grateful it was an official troop ship and not some commandeered freighter. She still had nightmares from the last time the regiment had moved out and they had crammed her solid in some spluttering freighter like a sardine. Well, at least official troop carriers wouldn't exactly range high on the 'to do'-lists of any alien raiders or pirates. The gray tin cans carried as much firepower as regular destroyers. As the panorama outside widened she decided raiders wouldn't be a problem anyway.

“Wow, look at all those ships!” Grunt gasped beside her, echoing Sammy's own thoughts. “Looks like somebody noticed how important I am. 'bout time I got a decent escort!”

As the dropship continued its approach Lee counted four more of the same type, bulky beasts capable of carrying – and landing - a full division of troops and armor. Scattered around them were a half a dozen destroyers and a pair of heavy cruisers, their lean frames, armored gun turrets and sensor domes prowling past the bulky troop vessels.

“Gentlemen, this looks like a major redeployment,” Jones nodded. “Guess that battalion of tanks they loaded up before the important people,” he tilted his head into Grunt's direction, “is heading our way too.”

“
Holy crap!” Sergeant Masters exclaimed, immediately huffing in embarrassment. “Sorry sir, but...
just look at that
!”

Jones peered in the direction his sergeant had advised, with Lee craning after him, and sure enough his eyes widened at the sight. Beyond the impressive flotilla of troop ships a squadron of the latest class of dreadnoughts, the astonishingly mean looking
Cortez
-class, floated majestically above Mars against the diamond-spotted backdrop of space. Usually seeing one or two of these vessels was a treat, but Lee had counted ten divisions – that meant twenty of those beasts! - before the dropship's flightpath moved them out of view, and their heavy screen of cruisers, destroyers and EW platforms with them.

Mars was one of the NAU's major fleet bases, but even here it was rather uncommon to have that much firepower gathered in one space. This here was more than Sammy had seen before, and from the Sergeant's reaction that counted for many of the veterans, too.

“Oh yeah, major redeployment,” Jones repeated. “I guess the Joint Chiefs want a show of strength to the alien races. There's supposed to be a bit of trouble on the Rasenni border according to newsfeeds. Guess they want to discourage someone trying the same to us.”

“
A division or two of dreadnoughts should send that message, sir,” Masters nodded. “And I guess deploying reinforcements to the garrisons on the outer colonies sends the same message.”

“
Well, at least we know
why
we're going. At least it's not the Chinese,” Jones rolled his eyes.  Nobody was keen to start the Third Solar War. “And it should mean a short term deployment, at least until the Rasenni problems die down. I'd say that's pretty good news, ladies and gentlemen.”

The thought made Samantha feel a little more comfortable. It was good news, indeed, for it meant she'd be back home when the brass' show of force was over. With a little luck that meant maybe a month or two tops.

As the dropship settled into its final approach she caught a better glimpse of a passing
Cortez
a few kilometers away
. If the Union wanted to intimidate other nations, aliens or not, a bunch of those ships were the perfect messengers. Twelve hundred meters long and weighing just a bit more than ten million metric tons, with an excessively large part of that devoted to armor, its every side dotted with gun turrets and missile magazines, the thing was about as subtle as a spiked club to the head. There was no question about what those ships were built to do. They didn't have the flattened wing structure and bright glaring colors that made them look like the distantly bird-like Ukhuri ships, or the lean features that made Ashani ships resemble a panther ready to pounce. They simply didn't need them. They just naturally looked like they were ready to bust heads, no decoration required.

Samantha nodded with pride. Anyone who tried to tangle with one of those monsters was going to come off second best. Then the ship disappeared as the dropship entered the bay and the next stage of their journey began.

“
Accept the challenges so that you can feel the exhilaration of victory.”


              
General George S. Patton, The Second World War

C H A P T E R  5

Oscan Star System, Rasenni Empire

June, 2797 C.E.

Patrol duty was a waste of time and effort. In fact, not only was patrol duty in generally a waste of time and effort, but patrolling this particular backyard of a star system was a highly offensive waste of his time and effort. Judoc could only conclude that at some point he had deeply insulted the gods, to be left with such a dreary and ignoble assignment.

This particular star system with its unremarkable mix of a blue main sequence star and a red giant was part of the territory claimed by Principality of Sechláinn, one of the older and relatively influential political families in the great Rasenni Empire. As a loyal servant of the principality Captain Judoc would follow his orders to check up on his lord's territories, no matter how far out in the galactic boondocks they were. It wasn't the type of task he would have chosen for himself.

Unfortunately there simply was nothing better. More than once Judoc had come to the realization that he had been born in the wrong age. He had missed the glory days of the empire by a good few hundred years, although he would have settled for a commission just a few decades ago when the first wave of obvious setbacks had hit the Rasenni, most notably the revolt and the subsequent humiliating withdrawal the thrice-damned Ukhuri had forced on them. He often dreamed of leading the expeditionary force to that planet to simply bomb it down to its crust, sterilizing the galaxy of its greatest plague. The remembrance of the long held dream made him smile.

Oscan also was a blasted and empty world incapable of supporting life. A few domed colonies existed, housing barely a hundred thousand Rasenni settlers. Its only value was as a location of mines for the raw materials for the fleet yards owned by the lord of the Sechláinn family. Each of the great noble families represented in the
Imperial Diet maintained respectably sized naval assets of their own to secure their respective holdings from outsiders and, more usually, each other's' aspirations. While nowhere near as formidable as the centrally controlled Royal Navy the local principality fleets were still a considerable threat to border worlds and each other. Combined they almost matched the Royal Navy's numbers, and with the sudden absence of an Emperor, tensions were running higher than usual, necessitating an increased presence to show they were ready to protect their territory.